J's Musings

I was only seven when my mom gifted me my first novella. It was a bare 150 pages big, but for my tiny self, reading the whole book in 24 days was an amazing achievement. From then on, it was like an addiction, ordering one book and one more and more. The happiness I felt whenever a book arrived was almost intoxicating.

3 years of this and I had turned ten, my reading speed and language skills had gone up enough for me to join a creative writing class. That was when I discovered I could wield a pen as well as I could read. I tried many things in writing; stories, narratives, essays, argumentative essays, poetry, and so much more.

I loved it all, for here my imagination had no limits. It was freeing for a 10-year-old used to sitting in school and doing what teachers said to finally be able to write what she wanted to and not something she was told to.

Now I am almost 13, a very tender age I have been told. Although, I believe there is nothing tender about an opinionated young person who can very well put anything they think into words. It still feels just as freeing and maddening to be able to tell the world how I feel as I feel it.

These days, I am home schooling and keep my focus on literature. Many a times people ask me why I left all the fun of being a child to focus on this, was it really so important?

Sometimes, I don’t feel ready to answer this question, other times I simply tell them about why I write.

Like I said, as a child, being able to write down my own thoughts and opinions in a grown-up manner was very freeing. Now as a teen, being able to tackle my emotions using correct words makes growing up a bit easier. That is the first of many reasons I write for. To make good use of the freedom to speech.

These days, my writing mostly includes book reviews, poetry and poem analysis. My work is usually intended to indirectly help people feel encouraged to read and feel relaxed as they do so. No hurry, no pressure, just pure joy of reading.

Whenever I see a kid read because they read my book review, I feel a sense of satisfaction. Because I may just have become the one who introduced this child to the ever-lasting joy of books and words.

Sometimes an old woman smiles as she reads the poem I wrote. Sometimes a young boy smiles at the same. They both think of it differently, one takes it a s a reminder of youth and the other a representative of his. My work goes out like coffee beans and everyone makes of it what they need it to be. Some have it in their desert and other’s drink with water.

Every time I write, the possibility that someone will feel better because of it, makes my heart swell with all kinds of emotions.

This is why I write. This is why I gave up on everything else to write. Because words have the power to put my outrageously strong opinions into the world. Because words can heal somebody needing a shoulder to cry on. Because my words might just introduce somebody to a lifetime of joy.

This is why I write, for myself and for others and everything that could be…

By,

Janx